Fortissima

by Sara Kingsley

  I struggle to get a view of the platform. It seems everyone is feet taller than I am. I get a glimpse of the officers—a blur of violet and gold—leading the Queen to the noose. I struggle to see her, practically jumping up and down. But the crowd is so thick that I’m being pushed back from every side. For a split second I see her face before they put the hood over her head. Her small proud smile, chin held high, her beautiful eyes all burn into my memory. I jump again and her face is gone, hidden under the black hood, the noose already around her neck.

  Hang her, hang her, hang her …

  Everything is blurry. I can’t see through my own tears now. I’ve got to do something—anything. I put my hand on the hilt of my knife.

  But I’m out of time.

  The chanting stops again. Suddenly a space opens in front of me and I can see the platform in clear view. King Araroa walks onto it and stands next to the sightless Queen.

  His voice bellows out the announcement. “Queen Seraphine Araroa. Sentenced to death for Treason of the Highest Order. May the Devils have mercy upon your soul.”

  There is a crack. A thousand gasps. Then only complete and utter silence.

  “Don’t look, Raven.” Tui grabs me into his arms and I bury my face in his chest. But it’s too late. I saw her there, swinging free in the air, her iridescent blue dress swaying. Her body still and dead. My beautiful mother, the Queen.

  There is no more chanting. Nobody even moves. Eventually Tui guides me out of the silent crowd. I look into each and every woman’s face as I walk past them. Our eyes meet through the tears pouring down our faces.

  To each, I make a silent promise: I will come back. King Araroa will pay for this. He will pay for all our sorrow. He will pay for what he’s taken from all of us.

  There’s nothing to do now but make our way back to the port. We walk slowly, without saying a word. It’s long past dusk and we probably won’t make it before the ship leaves. There’s no need to hurry.

  Tui clears his throat. “I’m really sorry, Raven. Really sorry.” I feel his eyes on me.

  I keep looking ahead. “Thanks for that. But I don’t think I’m going to get over this for a while. This is all my fault. It’s horrible. I failed at what I set out to do. Totally and completely.”

  “Did you?”

  “Of course I did. My birth mother was just executed. If only we hadn’t waited. If only I’d taken her with me when I’d gone into the dungeon to find her—we’d all be on that ship now. Sailing to Nuimana, far from this miserable place. No, Tui, I’ve utterly failed.”

  “But that’s not what we set out to do, is it? We’re safe. We’ll find another ship to sail on. You’ll live to come back one day and … and finish this.”

  I guess he’s right. I haven’t failed at what I set out to do. But still, tonight I will mourn my loss. The kingdom’s loss.

  “Perhaps.” It’s the last word I say to Tui until the lights of the port come into view.

  It’s nearly midnight by the time we reach the lamplit docks. Even at this late hour the place is a bustle of activity, with cargo being loaded and unloaded. There are crates and casks, live animals, bags of wheat and grain, all being shuffled around by tired-looking port workers. Nobody takes any notice of us.

  Tui and I watch, taking it all in. Neither of us has seen the ocean before. The smell of the briny air overtakes all my other senses. I can’t see the sea on this moonless night, but I feel it pulsing all around us. It’s magnificent.

  We step out onto the quay. I have no idea how to go about finding a ship that will take us, without papers, to Nuimana. We certainly can’t buy tickets; besides, we’re penniless. Maybe we can get jobs as deckhands, or find a nefarious sea captain who’d be willing to take us on. We could just work for the passage fare...

  The sight of him halts my thoughts and my footsteps completely.

  He’s standing, leaning against a tar-coated piling, talking to a dockworker. His hair shines, even in the dim lamplight, and his white teeth flash as he laughs and smiles. He’s telling a story, as usual, his hands waving this way and that.

  I will my feet to get moving again, and when they do, Leif sees me and freezes. He tilts his head and gives me the biggest grin I’ve ever seen. I’m pretty sure I’m doing the same.

  Seconds later, I’m wrapped in his warm embrace, breathing in his smell of leather and peppermint. It feels like I’ve been holding my breath for hours, and I exhale at last.

  Leif eases his hold of me just a little so he can lean back to look into my eyes. I’m sure they are puffy and red from all the crying. He brushes some loose hair back from my face, letting his hand pause just for a second on my cheek. When he takes it away, tingles remain.

  “I’m so glad you made it back,” he says. His face grows serious. “I’ve heard the terrible news about the Queen—there was an announcement here about an hour ago. I am so sorry, Raven.”

  “I know. It’s …” I struggle to keep my composure. I don’t want to lose it again. Not here.

  Leif grabs me up again, holding me even tighter this time. “You tried. I know you did. I’m just thankful you made it out of there all right.”

  I nod into his chest, willing the tears not to come again.

  When I have it together, I ease my grip on him and look up into his eyes, still gazing warmly at me. “But Leif, what are you doing still here? Didn’t the ship leave hours ago?”

  His mouth curls into a mischievous half-smile. “Naw, this is her, right here. Meet the Albatross.” His hand motions to the smart-looking three-masted ship we’re standing next to. “There was a little, er, delay. Her departure needed to be postponed until the next tide. She’ll be off shortly after dawn.” He winks at me as he says this.

  “Thank you,” is all I can manage. I know whatever Leif did was highly risky, to chance not getting his father’s shipment on board. He’d told me earlier Nile doesn’t get paid until the ship departs the harbor. “You didn’t have to—”

  “Yes I did. I’ve been drowning in guilt over what I did to you—how I tricked you. How dishonest I was. I never should have agreed to the Queen’s plan. It was foolish. So delaying this ship for you is the least I can do. I am so, so sorry for what I did, Raven.”

  His face has the very same look as the first night we met, in the moonlit trees. A look of adoration. Like he’d never do anything to hurt me. Like he cherishes me.

  This time, though, I don’t fall for it. Not like I did then.

  But that doesn’t stop my heart from pounding.

  Leif flashes a huge grin at me and continues, “Besides, it’s only the start of how I plan to make it up to you.”

  “Really? And what’s your next step?”

  “I’m going to wine and dine you. Come on, I know just the place.” He looks over at Tui, standing a few feet away. “You too, Tui. Let’s go eat.”

  When we get to the pub, I have to laugh. It’s got to be the bawdiest buccaneer pub in the port, literally overflowing with drunken miscreants. They’re hanging around the doorway and out of the windows, ale and whiskey sloshing everywhere. They sing along with the band inside, slurring the words. Probably the end of another typical work day in the port.

  We go inside and miraculously find an empty table. I can barely hear Leif giving our order to a server over the rowdy music a small band is cranking out from a corner of the room.

  I’m slack-jawed that such a place even exists this close to the Bastion. I can’t help but to ask Leif how the King allows it.

  He winks and his mouth curls into a half smile. “He doesn’t. His men keep shutting the place down, but it just opens up in a new location. ’Tis impossible to keep fellas from having a good time, especially those that spend weeks and months at a time at sea.”

  A short while later the server returns with our meal. We immediately dig in to the juicy pot roast and potatoes, all smothered in gravy. We wash it down with huge pints of ale.

  “Best savor this meal,” Leif says, pointing his
fork at Tui, and then at me. “Once you’re on the ship it’s seagoing fare—hard tack and fish jerky. Nothing at all like this.”

  I force a smile, even though my heart is sinking. It’s time to have the conversation I haven’t been looking forward to one bit. What I’ve come to accept since my meeting with the King three days ago.

  I look at Tui.

  “What?” Of course he can tell I’ve got something on my mind. Something important. I decide it’s probably best to get right to the point.

  “Tui, I’m concerned about Baldachin. Really worried. The King … he knows where we are from.”

  “Are you sure?” he asks, eyes wide. His fork stops in midair and slowly drifts down to his plate.

  I sigh. “I’m sure. He told me as much when we had dinner together.”

  “You had dinner with the King?” Leif interrupts.

  I nod. “Yes. Hardly an enjoyable occasion. Or voluntary, even. Anyway, I know you were looking forward to coming with me on the ship, Tui, but I think I’d better go alone. I think you need to go back to Baldachin, make sure everyone is safe. I don’t know if the King has any plans to—” But I can’t finish the sentence. I don’t even want to imagine it. It’s just too terrible.

  “Raven, I don’t know. I was so glad, back in Sagegate, when you asked me to go with you. I hated thinking of you sailing off alone to who-knows-where.” He sighs, considering all this. “But you’re right about the danger back in Baldachin. Maybe they need me more there.”

  “I’ll go with you to Nuimana,” Leif says.

  Tui and I both gape at him.

  “Really?” I ask. “What about your father? Don’t you need to get back to him? To help him out?”

  Leif sits back in his chair, tucks his arms behind his head. “He’ll be all right. Besides, I’ve always wanted to go to sea. Spent my whole childhood out here at the port, helping Papa loading up the ships. I’ve always wanted to get myself on one, feel what it’s like to sail out of the harbor. But I’ve only watched them go. Now’s my chance.” Grinning right at me he adds, “And with you, Raven, even better.”

  I am so glad it’s dark in here, otherwise he’d see me turning a ridiculous shade of scarlet. “I can go by myself. I don’t need a chaperone,” I argue.

  “Of course you don’t,” Leif replies. “But maybe you’d simply accept my company.” As usual, he says the perfect thing.

  Tui emits what’s clearly a mock cough. “You sure about this, Raven? You, er, trust this is the right … path?” He’s got one eyebrow raised. I know exactly what he means.

  Unfortunately, I’ll never be completely sure of anything, ever again. But still, I know that Tui must go back to Baldachin. “Yes, I think it’s a good plan.” I turn back to Leif. “I’d be honored to have you as my shipmate.”

  “Excellent, m’lady.” Leif gives me a little bow, and I blush all over again.

  By the time we finish our meal, the pub has started to clear out, which tells us that it’s very late. The ship will be leaving port in only a few hours.

  The three of us stand uncomfortably in the dark. The only lights on in the port are those along the docks. A few people are still working, loading crates and bags onto one of the ships. But most have retired to get some rest before the ships leave on the first outgoing tide of the day.

  “We should get some rest,” Leif says, as if he’s reading my mind. “I’ve already got a cabin all ready for you aboard the Albatross. You can retire there for the night if you’d like.”

  Rest sounds marvelous, but I’m not looking forward to what needs to happen now: saying goodbye to Tui.

  “I’ll meet you over there, if that’s okay?”

  “Of course,” Leif says. But before he goes, he hands a pouch to Tui. “I won’t be needing this. But you might. Have a good journey, friend.”

  The coins inside tinkle quietly against each other. “Much appreciated,” Tui says, flashing Leif a small smile.

  “Go see Papa when you get back to the Bastion. He’ll help arrange for your safe journey home.”

  Tui smiles at him, a real one. “Thank you, mate. Take care of this lady for me.”

  “I will certainly do that. I promise.” Leif returns the smile before disappearing into the dark, making his way to the ship.

  “Well, this is it. You’ll be away in a few hours. May the seas have mercy on you.”

  “Thanks, Tui. Once I’m finally out of here, I can handle anything the sea throws at me.”

  “Of course you can.” He reaches for me and gives me the biggest hug ever. “I’ll miss you,” he whispers into my ear. Tears well up again. I don’t care as they start rolling down, plopping onto Tui’s jacket.

  “I’ll miss you too,” is all I can say. “This isn’t goodbye, you know.”

  Tui releases his hold on me a bit, leans back so he can look into my face. “It’s not?”

  “No.”

  “Good.”

  We hold each other for another minute.

  “I’d better go,” Tui finally says, reluctantly. “It’s probably best I get back to Nile’s house before daylight. I’ll send word when I arrive at Baldachin, so you know everyone’s all right.”

  I just nod into his chest. I can’t seem to let go.

  Tui gives me one more squeeze, then we stand apart again. Without another word he starts walking away. A few minutes later I hear his voice again, calling out in the dark: “Godspeed, King Raven.”

  His words reverberate down the empty street, then ricochet right back. They land deep inside my chest, and settle there, as if that’s where they’ve always belonged.

  Chapter 19

  It’s our third day at sea and my stomach finally settles. I haven’t left my bunk since that first morning, when Leif and I stood on deck and watched the shoreline of Nadir fade away in the misty dawn light. As soon as the ship met the offshore swell our stomachs lurched, and it only got worse from there.

  The sailors told us to retire to our bunks and move as little as possible. They were right. As long as I kept myself wedged between the thin mattress and the cabin wall, I was able to keep my hard crackers down.

  Not so Leif. He’d secured us a private cabin and taken the bunk above mine. But due to his needing a bucket so often that first day, I’d switched bunks with him. Even in his sea-malaised state he’d call up to me in a weak voice every hour or two, asking how I was, could he get me anything? I’d just thanked him, said no, and gone back to sleep.

  Unlike me, he was back to normal within a day and a half. His sea legs sprouted, and he was all over the ship. He brought me water and crackers, descriptions of the sea, stories of the sailors he’d met, and news of the fish they’d been catching.

  “The cook is making a wicked fish stew. Can you smell it?” he asks, seventy-two hours after setting sail. He’s leaning on my bunk, handing me crackers one at a time. He smells like salt and wind. And a bit like fish.

  “Unfortunately,” I answer, wrinkling my nose. I take another tiny bite of cracker.

  But that evening, as the smell of the stew grows stronger, my mouth starts to water. I slowly sit up in my bunk and am relieved to find that my stomach doesn’t reject the motion. For the first time since leaving port it gnaws with hunger.

  I roll out of bed, and grip the cabin walls. The floor heaves beneath my feet. It’s an odd sensation. I make my way to the door, then into the passageway. Voices carry down from the other end, and I stumble toward them.

  When I enter the door to the dining room, a dozen faces turn to look at me. All at once the crew claps and cheers, so I make a small mock bow. Leif jumps up and takes my elbow, guiding me to an empty spot at the rough wooden table, next to where he’s been sitting. A bowl of the fish stew appears before me.

  As if I’d never entered, everyone turns their attention back to their meal. Once more the room is full of jovial talking and laughter.

  “It’s good to see you out of your cabin,” the plump woman sitting next to me says.

&n
bsp; I smile at her as I finish chewing the chunk of bread I’d dipped in the thick stew. It tastes even better than it smells. “It’s good to be out of there. I’m so sorry for not meeting everyone earlier. My stomach … it was just so … anyway, I’m Raven.”

  “I know who you are, dear. And don’t worry yourself. We’re just glad you’re feeling better. I’m Mrs. Wilkins—in charge of feeding this ravenous crew. My husband over there is the cap’n. We’re both honored to have you aboard, m’lady.” She motions toward the slight man sitting at the head of the table. His face is tanned and weathered, half-covered with a thick, long beard. He hears us over the din of conversation, and curls his mouth in a grin, nodding at me. I suspect little escapes his notice.

  Later, although I’m completely stuffed, I can’t resist taking a small maple cake from the dessert platter being passed around.

  I remember what she said about being the cook. “The dinner was delicious, Mrs. Wilkins. I’m so glad I was able to enjoy your cooking.”

  “I can only hope you say the same in two weeks, when we’re down to oats and onions,” she says with a wink. She looks over at Leif, sitting on my other side. “You should take the lady up on deck tonight. ’Tis a full moon and the sea is lovely.”

  I can barely walk I’m so full, after eating hardly a thing for three days. Leif and I make our way to the ladder that leads to the upper decks. The ship rocks slowly from side to side, and I grip the walls to keep from stumbling. My stomach starts to protest, and I hurry toward the ladder. I climb up as fast as I can, gulping in the fresh sea air as I reach the top.

  I pause there, taking in the night. The world has turned into pure magic. An enormous full moon hangs in the starry sky behind the ship, as if it’s trailing along like a kite. Everything is dripping with silver: the sea, the sky, the sails billowing out, pulling us along steadily.

  Leif leads me to the stern of the ship. The view from here is breathtaking, with the moon leaving a glowing quicksilver path behind us.